


The Patter of Tiny Feet

by Missy



Category: Army of Darkness (1992), Evil Dead (Movies), Evil Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Babyfic, Community: schmoop_bingo, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Kidfic, Schmoop, curtainfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ash tries to teach his daughter how to walk.  Unfortunately, she is his daughter - and therefore stubborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Patter of Tiny Feet

**Author's Note:**

> A semi-sequel to "Visualizations" And "Daddy's Day", all of which occupy the same universe but can be read separately. Written for Schmoop_Bingo, prompt "Baby - First Steps"

There was a certain degree of patience that Ash Williams has never and will never have. He screamed at cash registers and threw failing remote controls across the floor. He was a backseat driver of the highest order and had never been content to let someone else be in control of a given situation.

So when it came time – according to every book and manual printed in human history and Sheila’s instincts - for Eleanor to finally start walking, he sat himself down across from her on the wide, well-polished floor, watching her unsteadily rock back and forth to the tune of the old Beatles albums he’d put on repeat.

“Y’gonna come closer?” he asked his daughter.

Eleanor made a happy sound, reaching down and tucking her toes into her mouth. “Y’don’t know where those’ve been, kid,” Ash pointed out playfully. She looked up at him with her dark, wide eyes, clearly offended, before resuming the suction.

“The girl hath thy mobility,” Sheila declared, sitting down beside him on the floor. “She can place her toes ‘pon her forehead.”

Ash wrinkled his brow. “Yeah? Chip off the old block. I keep saying it.”

“Aye, tis true,” replied Sheila. She sipped her tea. “Darling,” she called to the baby, “come to mummy.”

Eleanor stared at Sheila, that alien gaze that read, quite bluntly, ‘the fuck?’ The kid wasn’t about to move when she was so comfortable ensconced on the floor, so she rolled into a sitting position and moved into a crawling one, making her way over to the couch.

“Maybe if we hold out some food….” Ash picked up the remains of his McMuffin and held it out. “C’mere, Elly…”

“She is not a dog, Ashley!” Sheila replied, horror entering her tone.

“Aww, c’mon baby, my mom used the same trick on me when I was a kid…”

“No, Ashley.” Sheila’s tone became quite frigid.

“Loosen up,” he teased. “Have a little fun….”

“Ye do not know the true meaning of the word,” she complained. “Or the meaning of the word ye doth know for love hath four words and must not be repeated before thy daughter.”

Ash laughed. “You like those words just fine when we’re alone, baby,” he told her, lounging upon the floor.

Sheila gave him the exact same glare that Eleanor had just given him. Laughing, he flopped backward on the floor. “Come on, baby. Come to papa…”

“Which one of us?” Sheila asked pertly.

He smirked. “I’ve gotta choose?”

“Never,” she replied, bending over him for a kiss. Then they heard a querulous noise coming from their daughter, who held out both arms and pouted.

“Uh uh, darling – if you wanna kiss, come here.”

The baby whines in response and holds out her arms. “You ain’t gonna get any sugar til you give me some.”

Eleanor – she of the usually calm disposition – sat and glared at her father. Then her lower lip began to quiver.

Sheila got up to avert the tantrum before it could begin. “So very like thy sire.” This time it was a complaint.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Ash responded, holding out his arms for the baby. Eleanor gave him a smug little smile as she settled into his arms with a yawn. “Look, kid, you’ve gotta learn how to do this – I can’t always be around to help you up.” The baby gave him a beestung pout – her mother’s mouth, her mother’s wounded expression. “Stop makin’ that face,” he requested. “C’mon, kid, we’ve gotta get to work here. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

Eleanor fell asleep in response.

****

Of course, his little pep rally speech hadn’t worked terribly well on a toddler. Eleanor seemed much more interested in babbling the latest word she’d nearly learned than listening to her dad’s advice. This didn’t bode very well for her teen years; he shuddered at the notion of her climbing into some car with some hood, started fearing the guys who would one day come up to his porch and ask to take his daughter away.

Ash started considering the correct caliber of weaponry with which to blast away a Deadite-ified hoodlum when he felt a tug upon his cuff. Automatically he reached back for his gun, but noticed just in time that it was his daughter who wished for his attention.

“What?” he asked her. Eleanor grinned toothlessly up at him, repeating her ‘ba ba bas’ . Ash smirked in spite of himself, scooping her up and held her to his chest. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead one day with that smile, kid. You already knock me dead.” Then, more thoughtfully, he said, “Y’know, maybe if I set an example for you…” he set her down on the floor. “You get up like this…” he demonstrated by climbing to his knees. “And then you climb up like this,” Ash demonstrated for the girl. “And then one foot, and then the other. Like this…you won’t be as good at first, but that ain’t anything new. Most people aren’t as good as your dad first time out of the gate – not even the prettiest girl in the world.”

Eleanor still looked completely confused by Ash’s suggestion. “Guess you’re gonna do it when you wanna do it. You really ARE your old man, kid.” Ash grumbled. “As much as I complain about your mom – And yeah, I do that a hell of a lot – she’s one hell of a dame. And you’re like her, too. Makes me glad to have a daughter instead of a son. You don’t have to live up to live up to your old man – you can be yourself, be the kinda girl you wanna be without this Chosen One crap hanging over your head. That’s how much I…like you, kid. I want everything to be better for you than it is for me. Want you to grow up without a damn worry in your pretty little head. So I guess what I’m saying is - I love you even if you don’t ever walk. Long as you’re a good kid, I’m gonna be on your side. Got that?”

But when Ash looked down, his daughter wasn’t where he’d placed her. She wasn’t crawling, either.

She was in the middle of taking her first two steps directly into his arms.

He managed to get an arm out just before she teetered over into the coffee table.

“Good job, kid,” he said. “Now go do that for your mother.”

He patted her back and tried to send her off in the opposite direction, but she took two steps and plopped down.

“Huh. Guess this is a two-person job for now.” He offered Eleanor his hand.

His daughter smiled as she latched onto his fingers.


End file.
